“you son of a bitch, she said, I amtrying to build a meaningfulrelationship.you can't build it with a hammer,he said.”

“Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it," he said with deep bitterness. "I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch.”

“Why does she have to be such a...such a...""Go on," I said. "The truth is never cussing, Son.""Such a bitch!”

“It [the trip] captured five very long hours. If you want to know why, it is because Grandfather is Grandfather first and a driver second. He made us lost often and became on his nerves. I had to translate his anger into useful information for the hero. "Fuck," Grandfather said. I said, "He says that if you look at the statues, you can see that some no longer endure. Those are where Communist statues used to be." "Fucking fuck, fuck!" Grandfather shouted. "Oh," I said, "he wants you to know that that building, that building, and that building are all important." "Why?" the hero inquired. "Fuck!" Grandfather said. "He cannot remember," I said.”

“Son of a bitch! I own your place! I’m your host. Is this how you repay me? By stealing my woman?” The spirit stopped and turned. “No one owns me,” he said. “I go where I will.” “Yeah well I’ll fill in your fucking pond and build a goddamned parking lot! How would you like that? Huh? I‘ll build condos. I’ll tear up the whole damned forest and pave it over!” The spirit stopped and regarded him. Angus swept the rain from his face as he waited for the spirit’s reply, the two of them hovering in the storm.”

“I tell you, money can't build your spire for you. Build it of gold and it would simply sink deeper.”